


Firsts

by electric_octopus



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Meetings, less than that even, some dialogue taken from the first cutscene of the game, writing about my guardians during vanilla destiny to pass the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 18:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electric_octopus/pseuds/electric_octopus
Summary: Everyone starts somewhere.A Ghost finds his Guardian, and trouble follows as it always does. But, at least there's a friend to be made.





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't posted anything here in the 2 years i've been a member, so i figured, why not put some of the things i've written about my guardians on tumblr here? it's more of an experiment than anything, and an attempt to keep my account from looking so bare-boned i guess. i might post more of what i've written, just so my stuff isn't all cluttered

His Guardian’s first breath was a wheezing gasp. For a frightful minute Willow thought he had done something wrong when they had just continued to lay on the ground. And then, they sat up. If he had the ability to do so, Willow would have cried tears of joy. “You’re alive!” He’d been looking for them for so long, and here they were, in the wreckage of the Cosmodrome.

“Guardian… Guardian?” He asked quietly, watching as they stood up on shaking legs. “Eyes up, Guardian.” They looked up at him and Willow’s aft segments rotated in joy. “I’m a Ghost, your Ghost.” They tilted their head and took a step forward. “You’ve been dead a long time. So, you’re going to see a lot of things you won’t understand.”

His Guardian looked around at the nothingness that surrounded them. The wall of the Cosmodrome was far off in the distance. Rusted cars sat scattered about, picked clean by scavengers and nature. They took another step, snapping a twig underfoot, and flinched at the sound. Through the neural link (and that was something Willow was going to have to get used to after being alone for so long), he could feel the fear creep up the base of their neck. He saw their fingers twitch before they locked together, settling tightly against their diaphragm. “It’ll be okay,” he told them, and their head snapped to him. They werere wearing the shoddy helmet he was able to scrounge up from the surrounding area so he couldn’t see what their expression, but he could feel all their attention on him. “This is Fallen territory. If we make it to the Cosmodrome, we’ll be able to find something to take us to safety.” Hopefully.

Their steps were shaking and small as they walked over the piled up dirt and rocks. Willow kept floating backwards to coax them forward. “I didn’t bring you back so you could die again,” he said softly, more to himself than them. “I’ll get you to safety, I promise.”

When they were clear of the line of cars Willow had drawn them up from, he floated closer and introduced himself.

In the same wheezing voice they took their first breath with, his Guardian said, “Hello, Willow.”

At that moment, surrounded by broken down Golden Age vehicles and dead trees, Willow would make sure his Guardian lived.

* * *

The Cosmodrome was as dilapidated on the inside as it was on the outside. The outsides of the structures were falling apart, and the House of Devils made a nice cozy home in the buildings, but if what Jai had said that if Rasputin would be anywhere, the age old Warmind would be in the Russian complex. (Or Mars, but Ira hated the barren red landscape of Mars. At least in the Cosmodrome he could pretend he was safer.) Which was why Ira was laying down on his belly on a rooftop in the Divide, looking through the scope of his rifle and watching Dregs and Vandals scurry back and forth. If he wanted to find Rasputin, watching the Fallen would be the only way to go about doing it.

Nothing of importance was happening, and he was about to get up and leave when he saw a flare get shot up into the sky with a high pitched whistle. “Shit,” he whispered. “Shit, shit, shit.” He could feel the air get displaced more than see it as Ketches broke out of warp and fly low to the surface. The Fallen were a pain, but with the number of ships that had just appeared, they would be a thorn very soon. He couldn’t stay.

Ira held out his hand, and Rayner flashed into his palm. His Ghost glanced up at him, waiting for him to say something, then moved to hover by his shoulder. “Ira,” he said. “Look over there.”

But Ira didn’t look, still too focused on the Fallen ships. He gripped his rifle tighter. If he shot now then his position would be ambushed, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen. “I know, Rayner, a whole bunch of Fallen just came in and-”

“Not them,” his Ghost said. “ _Look_. A Guardian.”

“A what?” The Cosmodrome was empty, most patrols had been moved because of the sheer amount of inactivity coming from the complex (but Ira was sure that was going to change soon), and he was here for a reason. Ira picked up his rifle and held it up to his helmet to look through the scope. Sure enough there was a Guardian stumbling through the hole in the wall. A Hunter from the looks of it, though the cloak was practically a scarf, the hood kept slipping off the helmet, and the armor didn’t have any of the useless flare that Hunters were known for. It was drab, shabby really, a well aimed shot could kill them easily if they weren't careful. “A Guardian,” he breathed. "A brand new Guardian." It had been… a while since he’d known of a new Guardian come through the Tower.

Whoever they were, they were carrying perhaps the oldest, most busted up gun he’d ever seen. It’d probably break Banshee’s heart if he ever saw it. The way they moved made Ira think that they hadn’t gotten a hold on _walking_ , and the idea of them swaying into a gunfight with the Fallen made his heart sink into his stomach.

“And offering them a ride would be polite,” Rayner chimed in, then disappeared in a flash.

Ira sighed and holstered his sniper rifle. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah.” He stood up, ran to the edge of the roof, and jumped, keeping an eye on their progress the best he could as he hovered safely to the ground. He had a clear view of them just _stumbling right up_ to a group of Fallen and firing their gun, the sound of automatic gunfire and Fallen shrieks filling the air enough to cover the sudden thud of his drop.

“Hey!” He yelled as another Dreg dropped dead to the ground with ether mixing in with the snow. The Guardian didn’t turn to look at him. “Hey!” He yelled again. A Vandal poked its head out, and Ira grabbed his scout rifle to put a bullet in its face. That got their attention. They spun on their heel, and pointed their gun at him, some beat up relic of a Khvostov and it was impossible for Ira to be intimidated by such an old gun. “Easy there, newbie. I’m Ira. I’m a Guardian, too. A Warlock, to be precise.”

The new Guardian lowered their gun and tilted their head. “… Hello.” Their voice was quiet and Ira had to strain his ears slightly to hear them, but at least they talked. “Willow said that, um, no one was here.”

Ah, Willow must be their Ghost. Ira shrugged off the fact that they didn’t give him their name. Hunters were weird when they started out apparently. “Officially, I’m not either, but what the Vanguard doesn’t know won’t hurt them.” He grinned, and the Guardian shrugged their shoulders.

“Willow said that there was a, uh, a ship around here. Is it yours?.”

Ira shook his head. “No, my ship’s in orbit.” He pointed up at the sky. “If you’re looking for a ship, then I can help you out. And help you back to the Tower. If you’d like.”

“… Okay.” They whispered, turned on their heel, and walked into Dock 13. Ira followed closely on their heels.

“So, what’s your name?”

Guardian was quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember.”

“Well, that’s okay, maybe it’ll come back with time.” They hummed at him. “Real conversationalist, aren’t you?”

Another hum, but at least it sounded like they were laughing. It was a start.


End file.
